


Five Fingers

by RemixtheBox



Series: The Five Fingers AU [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-15 02:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5767513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemixtheBox/pseuds/RemixtheBox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each finger on our hand means something different. This is what they meant to two young wizards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pinky

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work I'm posting here on ao3 and I'm really excited to see what people think! This is also my first fanfic for the Sherlock fandom, so I'm really trying to work on my characterization and such. Not beta'd or brit-picked, so all my mistakes are my own.  
> ~Remix~

I rolled my eyes as Mummy fussed over my clothes. She knew I loathed to be coddled so much, and it wasn't as if I was the first to be sent away to Hogwarts. Mycroft was already in his sixth year and Sherringford had already moved onto attending a muggle university, much to the dismay of my mother. 

"Be sure to write," she insisted, holding my face in her smooth hands.

"Obviously," I scoffed in annoyance. Honestly, such reminders were tedious and altogether unnecessary. I was more than intelligent enough to know that if I didn't write, mummy would deliver a howler to correct the mistake.  
I received a stern look from her for my answer. Even though she was my mother, she refused to deal with my attitude. Turning to Mycroft, they exchanged a meaningful glance to which Mycroft accepted with a nod. They engaged in a cursory hug and before I knew it Mycroft was urgently ushering me onto the train.

I glared at him and waved to mother one last time, adding a dramatic flare to my turn as I stepped up into the carriage. While I would never admit it, I was excited to go to school. I had been seeing a private tutor up until now. The man was hardly competent and my lessons traditionally ended with me teaching him something. While I wasn't terribly optimistic, I was hoping Hogwarts would live up to its reputation and give me the mental stimulation I craved. Plus, I wanted to discuss deductions with the sorting hat when I got there. Perhaps he could give me the edge I needed to outwit Mycroft when it came to deductions.

We started to make our way to our reserved compartment. Most students had already settled into their quarters so the walk there was mostly free of human interaction. Others that we passed didn't meet our eye. The Holmes family had quite the reputation. 

A boy with brown hair and eyes suddenly stopped us. The bloke was obviously a Hufflepuff and in the same year as Mycroft. While an inch shorter, he was a bit more stocky. Qudditch player then? I waited for him to walk away after the initial greeting, but he didn't, which was strange all in itself. 

My brother exchanged pleasantries and I tuned out of the conversation, instantly bored with the proceedings. Those who happened to pass giggled and sneered at them. The origin of the sneers were simple enough to deduce: Hufflepuffs and Slytherins did not interact. It was a taboo, one of which I was surprised with my brother for ignoring given how obsessed with image he is. The giggles caught me off guard however. I began to pay more attention to the interaction between the two.

The Hufflepuff's toes were pointing towards Mycroft and his posture was unguarded and open. Mycroft was more relaxed than usual, indicating that they were comfortable with each other. Mycroft wasn't smiling, but his eyes were lit up and the his pupils were dilated in obvious delight. They dilated even further and the faintest hint of a flush tinted his cheeks when the hufflepuff reached out and put a friendly hand on his arm. Oh. A mischievous smile found my lips easily. Mycroft had a crush.

I cleared my throat, making the two sixth years look down on me.

The Hufflepuff gave a genuine smile, "You must be Sherlock. Mycroft has told me all about you."

"Your name," I prompted impatiently. Why did people insist on pleasantries at all?

"Greg Lestrade," he answered swiftly, unmoved by my tone. Fascinating.

My brother edged me away from Lestrade (I already deleted his first name) and tried to fix me with a threatening glare, "We should get you to your compartment."

I matched his eyes in a silent challenge, then turned to the other sixth year. My voice was triumphant and smug, "I hope you are aware that my brother fancies you. It is obvious."

A horrified expression befell Mycroft's face and I was very satisfied. The loss of composure did not remain, "Ignore him Gregory. He likes to think he's clever."

"Had a feeling that ran in the family," Lestade laughed good-naturedly. He was again completely unaffected. "I have to head off now. You always have a place in my compartment if the little one gets too unbearable."

"He'll be joining you," I assured, "He probably wants to woo you with-" 

"Enough, Sherlock," Mycroft all but growled at me. He gave a polite wave to Lestrade before he dragged me away.

"Later Myc'!" The man of Mycroft's affections called to our retreating figures. He called him Myc'. How... sentimental.

I was jerked into the compartment, "You will never say anything like that to Gregory ever again. Do you understand, brother mine?"

"I thought you said caring was not an advantage?" I rolled my eyes. Sentiment. Boring.

"Precisely. Which is why you will never mention it again," he straightened up. "I will come back for you near the end of the trip." He left quickly, poised as ever.

I flopped down dramatically and pulled put a book out of my carry-on, trying and failing to ebb away the growing boredom. Things were actually picking up in the story when a blur came flying into the enclosed space.

"I'll explain in a minute," a what I deduced to be a boy said hurriedly. Much to my surprise, he disappeared in front of me.

Barely a moment later, a red-faced Gryffindor stormed in, "Alright, where did that little tosser go?"

I blinked at the girl. Fifth year, muggle-born, bordering alcoholic, lesbian. Dull. "Who?" Why was I helping the (still debatable) boy who had disappeared?

That was simple, actually. I wanted to know how he did it.

She groaned in frustration and stormed out, slamming the sliding door shut.

The boy (for sure this time) appeared by my side, laughing breathily, "Oh god, thanks so much mate. She would have skinned me!"

I just stared at him. His blond hair was tussled about, looking wind-blown. His face was flushed and he panted lightly, but it was his eyes that drew my attention. They were blue, which wasn't interesting in the slightest, but for some reason I found them... captivating.

"John Watson," he offered, holding out his hand.

I took it, finding myself not minding the tedious gesture. "Sherlock Holmes."

"You're Mycroft's little brother?" He raised a brow.

While I appreciated his lack of reaction to my family name, my temper did flare when he associated me with Mycroft. "Unfortunately. Gryffindor or Hufflepuff?"

His eyes widened in surprise, "Gryffindor. How did you-"

"You are at least in your second year based on how you carry yourself and know your way around the train. Pair that with your prepubescent features and lack of puberty symptoms and second year becomes the only option. This means you have a house, and from there I can narrow it down to either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. You are obviously not a Slytherin because that particular house has only ever had pure-bloods, which you are not based on the style of your clothing. A Ravenclaw would have outsmarted their pursuer and used a more tactful approach of getting away. The way you enjoy the thrill and danger of the chase implies Gryffindor, but your friendliness towards me despite my lineage screamed Hufflepuff. Simple deduction."

John just stared at me in... amazement? I shook that thought from my head. Never. It had to be shock.

"What else do you know about me?" He asked after a minute.

I released a put-upon sigh, "You have a scar above your right eyebrow. From the looks of it, it was caused by a broken glass bottle. The lack of precision implies the culprit was inebriated at the time but the severity shows there was a large amount of strength behind it. Drunkard for a father, domestic violence case. It appears your sister is following in his footsteps. You stole her smuggled alcohol, yet you were caught with it thus beginning the chase through the train." John looked visibly uncomfortable and my stomach gave a little twist. I scanned to find more positive deductions. A Qudditch pin. Perfect. "You have a Qudditch pin on your bag. Beater is your position of choice so you'll try out this year. Based on your stature you won't make it, but they may take you as a seeker to take advantage of your compact form. You have an interest in muggle medicine if the book in your bag belongs to you. You attend Hogwarts because you are expected to, but you plan to live away from the wizarding world once you complete your education. No- you'll study as a healer first to assist you when you enter the military. You've obviously considered this because while the life of a doctor is rigorous, you want more action and adventure with promises of travel. So, an army doctor with a alarming success rate of healing muggles."

I waited for the angry accusations of mind-reading and possibly a hit if my deductions about John's nature were correct, but I was met by an unsettling silence.

John's face was completely slack and I momentarily thought I broke the boy when his eyes lit up and a smile that could melt the artic was directed at me, "That was amazing!"

My stomach knots dissipated into jittery butterflies and I found myself captivated by those unnaturally blue eyes. "You think so?" I allowed myself to smile a bit more. This boy just kept on getting more fascinating.

"Of course! It was extraordinary, truly extraordinary. You got all that just by looking at me?"

"And your things."

"Either way, you are brilliant."

I could sit and listen to him praise me all day. My ego was practically purring. What kind of monster would want to hurt this boy? "You aren't mad about me finding out about your father?"

His smile faltered and I wanted nothing more than to have the once radiant expression return. These sentimental thoughts were starting to get disgusting, I realized. Pull yourself together Holmes. He's just another pedestrian, boring, and idiotic boy among the masses. I was too busy scolding myself to realize that he had been talking to me, so all I caught was the very end. "-so it's fine as long as you swear not to tell anyone."

I cursed him. If he wasn't being so distracting, maybe I would have caught his explanation as to why I couldn't tell. "Not a word," I assured him. Better not let him know I wasn't listening.

"Pinky promise?" He held his pinky out to me.

I stared at him. What was he doing? What did he expect from me?

He giggled (I ignored how terribly wonderful the sound was) and shook his head, "Pureblood." He took my cool hand in his warm one and locked our pinkies together. "It means you can't break the promise."

I understood immediately, "It's an unbreakable vow." I waited for the magic that would tie us together.

He broke into a fit of laughter, "You are too funny Sherlock Holmes!"

I still didn't understand, but his laugh was contagious and I found myself joining in. There would be plenty of time for questions later, including how in the world he turned invisible without a cloak or wand.


	2. Thumb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thumb. It's the appendage that makes us different from the rest of the species on earth. It is the one that shows we're okay. It's the one we use to reassure a friend. For John and Sherlock, it means all of the above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to take this moment to apologize for the chapter summary. How does one write a serious summary for something that is just a thousand words of tooth-rotting fluffy goodness? Not beta'd or brit-picked, so all my mistakes are my own.
> 
> ~Remix~

During the train ride, I had explained some of my experiments I had going on at home, to which he listened with rapt attention. In return he offered some stories about the antics he got up to during his first year. Apparently, he was the troublemaker from the Gryffindors but no one expects “precious baby Watson” to cause any mischief. We even talked about my family a little bit and I told him how I was different. Well, I wanted to be different.

Everyone in my family had been a Slytherin. From the early days of Hogwarts, the Holmes family dominated its ranks. I had always felt out of place among the rest of kin; I had no desire to strive for wealth or greatness. Instead, I was content where I was and I had more of a craving for mental stimulation. I wanted to learn and know and experiment and create. Mummy disapproved of my interest in muggle sciences and forced me to learn complex magical material at a young age in an effort to quell my curiosity. It just made me want to know more. What did the muggles know that we didn’t?

I was certainly surprised at John’s understanding of the situation. I was surprised that he could even keep up with me. I grew more and more fond of the mudblood the more we interacted. I knew that it was stupid, though. The Gryffindor would forget about the boy on the train as soon as we parted.

Maybe that’s what made leaving his side so painful.

Sure enough, I was hustled into robes and sent off with all the other first years. I spoke with Mycroft briefly before I was manhandled away. He was so sure when he said that he would be seeing me in the Slytherin common room after dinner. It made me sick to my stomach. As much as it pained me to admit, Mycroft was hardly ever wrong.

I didn’t even remember the walk to the Great hall because my nerves were eating away at me. No matter how much I scolded myself, my mind palace just wouldn’t stop behaving as if it was suffering from an earthquake.

Tuning the professor out, I took a moment to collect myself. It would be fine. I was different. I didn’t even care where I ended up as long as it wasn’t Slytherin. I would get Ravenclaw, my mind supplied, and I couldn’t help but smile at the fact it was John’s voice telling me the words.

It was time, and I don’t think watching a door open has ever made me want to crawl into a hole so much before. Still, I was a Holmes. I turned up my nose and confidently strutted into the room. All eyes were on us and I discreetly scanned the room. There was Mycroft, of course, but the one who stood out like a beacon was none other than John Watson. 

He was sat near the front of his table, no doubt wanting to greet the first years. His hair was neater, I noted, and the robes just looked all wrong on him. They were secondhand and poorly taken care of. His tie stood out in perfect condition, which must have meant that it was his and he treated it with the utmost care. I watched him scan the group, then his eyes found mine. He smiled brightly and gave a little wave. I nodded at him in acknowledgement while I internally screamed at my transport to stop doing the fluttery thing.

At the front of the room, the sorting ceremony began. I deduced where every student would go before it was decided. When that got boring, I turned to watch John again. I told myself that wasn’t what I was doing, but if I was being completely honest the truth would come stumbling out of the room I had already built solely for John. Of course he would be the one to clap madly for every student, regardless of house.

“Holmes!”

I was startled to hear my name but I was careful not to show any outward signs of it. The hall dropped into a dead silence. My family had quite the reputation.

I walked up, feigning a bored expression. I felt the hat get set on my head gently and I buried my panic into the darkest rooms of my palace.

“A Holmes I see. Always were known for their brains. It’s so much more easy to read this way instead of the jumbled mess most people’s minds are.” The sorting hat said cheerily.

Mind reading. How boring. “What is my house, then, if it’s so easy for you?”

The hat chuckled, “Usually it is no question, but you, oh you’re a tough one. You hold all the strengths of the Slytherin house…”

I tensed. Oh no. This is what I feared would happen. I searched for a way out, for a way to change what he was going to say, but I was left without one. Was this what a panic attack felt like? I checked my symptoms: shortness of breath, speeded pulse, racing thoughts. Oh yes, this was definitely a panic attack, I tried to find the room on how to make it stop, how to not burst into tears, how to change the way I was so I didn’t get sorted into-

A dark, brilliant blue caught my eye and the world stopped. There was John, looking at me with those eyes. Those ordinary blue eyes. He was smiling, but it wasn’t like the ones I had experienced before. He was smiling with his whole body, practically glowing with it. If a boy who could smile like that believed in me, then what was I worried about?

“John Watson? Fine young man, almost a Hufflepuff. His desire to take care of his sister was the deciding factor in the end. Very good choice.”

“What choice?” I snapped suddenly.

The hat just continued to hum with mirth, “You’ll see, Sherlock Holmes. For your sorting, I have made my decision. You aren’t driven by what the rest of your family was and you crave to prove them wrong about you. There’s only one house you truly belong in.”

“What?” I was buzzing and holding my breath.

“RAVENCLAW!”

No one made a sound.

My heart leapt with so much joy that it didn’t occur to me that no one was clapping. When I did, I was… sad. Not even my own brother was proud of what I just accomplished? Wasn’t anybody happy that there was a Holmes who was different? They were all scared of my family, obviously, but were they that upset it was no longer contained within Slytherin borders?

I was just about to sulk to my table when a loud cheer ripped through the tense air of the hall. My eyes snapped to the source and my eyes grew wide. There was John Watson, standing on the Gryffindor table, clapping so hard he was shaking and cheering so loud his voice cracked. I didn’t even try to fight the smile that spread on my face.

Someone joined him and I was surprised to see Lestrade, a boy I knew for less than five minutes, cheering along with him. Little by little, people joined in until the entire Hall was alive with celebration. I stared in awe as reality settled in.

I had won. I was a Ravenclaw.

I turned to look at Mycroft, ready to see disappointment. All I witnessed was a slow clap and a soft smile. I was filled with warmth. While I’d rather die than admit it, I was happy that my brother was proud of me. 

Turning back to the Gryffindor table, I saw John Watson still standing on the table. He gave me two thumbs up and another full body smile.

That was how that mudblood with the secondhand robes and the captivating blue eyes became my entire world in a blink of an eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this update! There will be a time skip for the next one, so be ready for that! I actually made my sister make some interesting noises with this one but she said it was fine so I assume it was just the natural reaction to fluff. Still beta surfing, so that request is on the table. I take suggestions and all that jazz as well. Next update should be up sometime during the weekend. I understand the struggle of waiting for a fic to update.
> 
> ~Remix~


	3. Middle Finger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock knows how important John is, yet he still manages to lose him somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points for the not super cheesy summary. I just want to take this moment to apologize. You'll know what for when you're done. Not beta'd or brit-picked, so all my mistakes are my own!
> 
> ~Remix~

Years went by and I was suddenly in my fourth year at Hogwarts. John Watson only managed to become more vital to my life. I spent all of my time with him or thinking about him. Mycroft never failed to point out that my fascination might not be healthy, but it kept me out of trouble, so he kept his fat nose out of it. I was waiting for the day for John to become boring, for me to come to my senses and realize he wasn’t special.

But he never did, He remained fascinating and and I remained enraptured by the enigma that was John. I found out that he was better at using magic that didn’t require a wand or a spell. He just… did it. That was how he became invisible that day on the train. I demanded that he teach me, but I never could quite grasp the concept. That was fine, because I excelled at almost everything else. We spent all the time we could with each other. Between classes we met up, we ate together (after the first month people stopped caring), he helped with my experiments, I went to Quidditch games, and holidays were spent at the school. The only time we parted for a long period of time was the summer. We exchanged letters then and I always begged for him to join me in my family’s summer home. Everytime he said no, and my heart broke every time I saw him back with bruises and a few more scars. 

I had known by my second year that I was in love with John Watson. I knew he loved me too, but it was just taking him a bit longer to realize it himself. So I would roll my eyes at his temporary girlfriends and wait for the relationship to eventually end. As long as the girls didn’t interrupt my time with John, I honestly didn’t care about them. I had his heart and they were just silly placeholders until I would be the one on John’s arm. 

We had other people enter our circle sometimes. There was Molly, a Hufflepuff that John had befriended. She used to fancy me but I made it very clear to her that my amorous intentions were directed at John. She became a close ally of mine after that and she was the only one besides John I confided secrets in. There was some other boys from the Quidditch team, a Hufflepuff named Mike, a Slytherin named Irene Adler, and every once in awhile James Moriarty would go from foe to friend. That bloke was so changeable. 

The only person I couldn’t stand around us was James Sholto. There was nothing explicitly wrong with him, per say. He was a chaser on the Gryffindor team, a model student, a sixth year, pure-blood, and all around decent company. He had one glaring and fatal flaw though: he was courting John.

John didn’t see it this way, being who he is. Everyone flirted with him at some point, so he just believed this was how people behaved. He was the Gryffindor golden boy. Puberty had unfairly favored him above the rest of the population of Hogwarts. While he was still lacking in the height department, he made up for it in compact strength. His eyes were the same wonderful blue and acne didn’t dare touch his flawless skin. With shining honey hair and an infectious smile, he was easily the most attractive boy in the entire school.

It only made sense that someone else considered attractive would seek him out to be a power couple. I knew John deserved someone more attractive than I. Since I wasn’t John Watson, I was deep in the awkward teen phase. I was all gangly limbs and ghoulishly pale skin. My cheekbones were too large on my face and didn’t pair well with the residual baby-fat on my jaw. I had to wear the most ridiculous glasses with a mouth full of metal. There wasn’t a spot on my face that wasn’t liable to some form of blemish. Compared to him, I looked like a walking horror show. What had Molly seen in me?

Although this was all true, I did not like the lingering looks from Sholto. I didn’t like the friendly hand on his shoulder, or the too long embraces after a Qudditch match, or the small gifts. It should be like how it was with John’s silly girlfriends, but it wasn’t.This was a boy and I could not stand to see John with a boy who wasn’t me. Period.

John was loyal, though, and he never strayed to romance with James.

Or so I thought.

My world came to an abrupt end in the Ravenclaw common room. 

“Sherlock?” John looked up from his potions book. He was biting his lip and looked a little nervous. Was this how he was going to look before our first kiss? I hoped so.

“What, John?’’ The room was relatively empty, so I didn’t bother whispering.

He shuffled a bit, then took a deep breath, “You know you’re my best friend, right?”

I didn’t even try to hide my happiness at the title. Take that puberty. Not even you could make me hideous enough to make him think any less of me, “Do get on with it John.”

He rolled his eyes, “Sherlock…”

I sighed, closed my book, and dramatically put all of my attention on him, “What is it John, or would you like me to deduce it?”

Surprisingly, he looked more relaxed, “No, I don’t want you deducing it. It’s just… Look, you know you mean the world to me right?”

This is it. This is the acceptance I was waiting for. He was going to say he loved me and I would return the sentiment and we were going to agree to stay together forever to do experiments and make fun of the people around us and get married and maybe even get a dog-

“Are you listening Sherlock?”

I focused on him again, “Yes.”

“So… it’s alright then?”

“You may have to repeat that last part.” 

He looked mildly irritated, but in that fond way he does, “I like boys, Sherlock. And girls. Romantically. Sexually. I’m bisexual. That doesn’t… bother you?”

I blinked. Not the confession I was expecting but I’ll take it for now. This was the first step after all, “Of course I don’t. Why would the gender of your bedmate have anything to do with me?” Say it John. Just say it’s because you want me in your bed and this girl and Sholto nightmare can be over. 

“Because most blokes freak out about that sort of thing. And I know that you’re not like most blokes but we actually share a bed most of the time. I really don’t want the dynamic of our friendship to change, but I felt like that this was something you deserved to know. I’m just figuring it out myself really and-”

“John. Nothing in our friendship needs to change because you decided that you no longer discriminate romantic interests due to gender.” 

He looked relieved, “That’s good. That’s very good actually.” He was smiling now. “So, I need your help now. There’s this boy I really like and I really need to know if he is interested in me. Like, it’s a prerequisite before I can even think about making a move on him.”

“What’s he like?” Just describe me John so I can deduce it’s me and this can stop being so tedious. Then James Sholto will know to back off.

“Well, we’re really close friends and I just-” He hit his head on the table, “He’s just so attractive that sometimes I can’t even-”

I blanked out. Attractive? They were attractive? I felt my stomach turn and bile pool up in my throat. It wasn’t me. It was never me, was it? How could I have been so wrong? Of course John wouldn’t want me. Everything was suddenly clear and all that was left was broken pieces spread across the floors of my mind palace. What were the pieces from? Was that my heart? My mind? My entire being? It really didn’t matter, because they were all nothing with the knowledge that John Watson didn’t love me back

“Just go ask them out on a stupid date.” I started shutting myself down and pushing all redeeming thoughts of my John away. I wanted to be furious with him right now, but I knew it was my fault for being so damn unlovable in the first place. 

“Sherlock? Are you alright?”

No no no no no no NO. John couldn’t be caring right now. If he is, I will break and John will know how badly he’s hurting me. The last emotion from John Watson I ever want to receive was pity.  

“Sherlock? Sherlock you’re starting to scare me now. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s fine, I understand that you-”

“Why don’t you just shut up?” I asked coldly. The words were out before I could filter them. I looked over to see the most heartbreaking expression. Too bad he had already smashed mine.

John continued to care for me, like he always did, “I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again. Shit I’ve really-””

I stood up, “I’m sure that even you can deduce that I would like it if you would just leave me alone.”

John stood up after me, “Sherlock, I know it’s weird, but I can’t-”

“Why are you still talking?” I started to walk away. Can’t you see you’ve done enough? Just go away for a little while then come back and I’ll be better. I just need to be away from you and your endless care for my well-being. I need to hate you for an hour.

“Because we’re friends, Sherlock!”

“I don’t have friends!” I turned and screamed in his face.

It almost looked like he was going to back down, but I watched his face twist into pure unadulterated rage, “You’re right. You don’t have any friends. The only reason people deal with your sorry arse is because I’m there to try and get them to like you. But you know what, Sherlock Holmes? You are the most irritating prick I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing. You think your family’s name can get you whatever you want but even that can’t get people to see you as anything more than a machine.”

I wanted to drop my jaw in awe. That’s the truth then? John really did care about who my family was. If I had been thinking clearly, maybe I would have paid more attention to his shaking shoulders, his quivering lip and the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. Maybe I would have realized he was bluffing. Because in all honesty, John Watson wasn’t a liar. At the moment, however, I wanted to break him just like he shattered me.

“At least my family is actually worth something. Actually, at least I am actually worth something. Take away the magic and what are you? A broken charity case so undesirable your own family doesn’t like you.”

I went to say more, but the utter betrayal on his face stopped me. I finally took in his tears and I wanted to apologize, to take it back and hold him in my arms and then cuddle the stuffing out of him while petting his hair and telling him how perfect he was to me.

He flipped me off, “Fuck you, Sherlock. I can’t believe I ever wasted my time on you.” He turned and walked out, slamming the door. The resulting bang felt like a gunshot. Had I ever felt this hollow before? I may have, before John, but I was coming to realize that after John was much, much worse.

There were a few grumbles of “about time’ and “what was that about” around me, but I didn’t hear them. I only heard John’s cruel words ringing throughout my mind palace.

I kept it together long enough to reach my bed before I collapsed and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I SAID IT WOULD BE FLUFFY BUT I'M A FILTHY LIAR AND I'M SORRY. The original plan was for a nice, fluffy scene in the library where John tells Sherlock about his sexuality change. There was no fight, or kind-of-creepy obsession, just two friends joking around. Then this happened. I feel so dirty... I made it a bit longer because I'm a day late with the update, so heave fun with that. As always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. 
> 
> ~Remix~


	4. Pointer Finger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is nothing without his John. Can the two make amends before it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's try this again! I posted this chapter, then accidentally deleted directly after. Sorry for the angst in the last chapter again. Hopefully this fluff will make up for it. Not beta's or brit-picked, so all my mistakes are my own.
> 
> ~Remix~

Life after John Watson was easily described to be complete and utter hell. I seemed to see him everywhere- in the halls, in class, in my dreams. The ghost of what we were never faded far from my memory. The only one of my acquaintances from “John” was Molly Hooper. That was rare, because she never failed to bring up his name somehow. That, paired with the pity I saw there was enough for me to avoid her most of the time.

Mycroft knew something had happened the moment I went home for the summer. He found this time to be perfect for reinstating the lessons he taught me all my life. It’s not like he had room to speak anymore. He and Lestrade were boasting three years together and Mycroft was more emotionally stable than he had ever been. I watched them bitterly when Lestrade came over and fell into a sulk whenever either of them mentioned John. 

By the end of the summer, my looks had changed dramatically. I finally grew into my features and the braces were removed. I had completed the spell necessary to restore my eyesight so those dreadful frames were binned at the quickest notice. Acne was a thing of the past. I had to admit, I wasn’t so disturbing to look at now. I preened a bit, maybe John will see how attractive I am and come back.

It was a stretch, but it was all I had.

The first thing I did back was look for John. He was at the Gryffindor table with James the horrible, altogether looking like a modern day Adonis as usual. He was laughing at something, but as soon as James looked away, his face fell and twisted into something depressing. 

I snapped my head away. I had spent the entire summer building walls against John Watson. My resolve wouldn’t crack because something was hurting him. It wasn’t my business anymore.

The days seemed to drag on more than usual. Suddenly I went from “freak” to “mysterious.” Every girl was suddenly throwing themselves at me, trying to be the one that I changed for. I even found a few intriguing, but none of them were John, so they didn’t really matter to me.

I managed to make eye contact with him sometimes (entirely on accident, it wasn’t as if I was trying to get his attention) and he usually turned away quickly. Other times he and Mike would look at each other and roll their eyes, especially if i was making a particularly brilliant deduction. I stopped voicing them out loud so much after that. What was the point of showing how genius I was if the one who mattered wasn’t impressed anymore?

I was walking through the halls between classes, writing in my notebook rapidly. Everyone tended to part out of my way now that I was gorgeous. The way people clung to appearances was so dull. 

The crash was unexpected and I fell unceremoniously to the floor. My books scattered everywhere and giggles plagued my ears. I went to berate the person in front of me for their incompetence, but I was met with those eyes. The very ones I had been dreaming of for all this time.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. Let me help-” John looked up and tensed, “Holmes.”

I sneered, putting up my walls again, “Watson.”

He continued to pick of my books, “How have you been?”

“Just fine,” I hated this. He was resorting to pleasantries. He didn’t even talk about such silly things on the first day we meant.

“That’s good.”

“And you, how have you been?”

He looked at me again, looking conflicted, “Don’t make me answer that. I’m a rubbish liar.”

I felt my walls begin to become a jelly consistency. I worked double time to keep all the wonderful things about John Watson out. I was stronger than a few honest words.

“That you are.” 

We stood and looked at each other awkwardly. Everyone else seemed to get the hint and came nowhere near us. They remembered what we were and our fight had been infamous in the Hogwarts’ buzz. Crazy rumors had spread because of that.

“Um…” He shifted uncomfortably, “It was nice to see you again. Well, I’ve seen you, but you know what I mean. Like, talk. This is really awkward isn’t it? Oh god, I’m making it worse, aren’t I? I’m sorry, It’s just that I-” He took a deep breath, “Nevermind. I’ll get out of your hair now. Um… see you later.” With that he fast-walked away. I was left stunned in his wake.

It hurt and if our fight hadn’t felt real before, it was definitely real now. He couldn’t even carry a conversation with me. I was irritable the rest of the day, snapping at anyone who came even a little close to me.

A week later, I was searching for a book in the library. I hadn’t let John consume my thoughts again and my walls were securely in place. I felt that I could have another interaction with him without the seal on his wing of my mind palace coming undone.

I was rarely wrong but if anyone could make it so, it was John Watson.

I found him trying to climb the bookshelves to reach the top shelf. After all these years at Hogwarts, I doubted he realized he could use magic for these kinds of tasks. I watched him struggle before I took a deep breath and walked over.

“Get down. You are being an embarrassment to everyone here.”

He yelped and fell back. I rushed forward and caught him, but we both managed to fall on the ground. Books fell around us from where the shelf he was standing on splintered and gave way. 

I was dazed, trying to take in the situation. I had an armful of Gryffindor, we had broken a shelf, and now we were in an undignified position surrounded by books beginning with M.

John squirmed in my arms and turned to me, “You can’t just sneak up on a bloke like that!”

I tried to ignore our close proximity and god he smelt so wonderful. Taking a deep breath of his scent disguised as preparation for a long-suffering sigh, I went to berate him, “If you had been observing, you would have known I was coming. Besides, even your simple mind can deduce that you could just use magic to get a book on a high shelf.”

I waited for his vitriol and hatred, because I know I would deserve it. However, I was met with small giggles that lead to full blown laughter.

The doors to John’s wing burst open and I remembered and how beautiful we were. I remembered the late night experiments, the sneaking out past hours to create some mischief, the thrill we experienced after a particularly close call. I remembered his smile and laugh and ached because couldn’t remember why I had forgotten it in the first place. The sleepy mornings of waking up in each other’s embrace made the sentiment I felt swell up so high I was drowning. I knew that I was once again gone and lost in the ocean that was what I felt for John Watson.

I remembered how it felt to love him, and after so long, it felt better than anything I ever felt in my life. 

Before I knew it I was laughing with him. We were found that way by the librarian, rolling in fallen books and splintered wood just laughing because the universe felt right again.

I don’t know how we got our old dynamic back, or who entered the other’s dormitory first, but within the month the entire school was buzzing with gossip because Watson and Holmes were back and making up for lost time. We were back to our old ways and everyone knew better than to talk about it to our faces. 

I knew that we would have to talk about our fight eventually, but I was selfish and I needed this. I needed to be John’s best friend again. I needed to be pulled into his orbit and cradled in his warmth and happiness. I needed to feel again and knew that if I lost it that would be the end of me for good. Sherlock Holmes had no idea how to function without needing his conductor of light.

“Sherlock?” John asked.

I tensed: this was exactly how the “conversation” started. Studying in the Ravenclaw common room and an innocent query turned wrong, “Yes, John?” 

“I… I’m sorry. I don’t remember if I ever apologized, but I didn’t mean it, what I said that day. You know the one.”

I turned to him and tried to smile, “I’m the one who should apologize. It’s my fault. I was…” Here we go. John deserved to know why I pushed him away. He had to understand how desperately I needed him. He needed to know the extent of my obsession and if he wanted to leave me, he had to run, far, far away. He needed to know that I loved him. 

John must have sensed something big was about to happen, “Let’s go somewhere private this time? I promise I won’t be so mean.”

My heart clenched. Oh John. Of course he would take the blame for the situation when It really wasn’t his fault. I grabbed his hand because I needed to touch him. If it was ever brought up, I could say I was leading him somewhere. 

We went through the stairs and I calculated the moves and the quickest way to get where I wanted. Soon. the Room of Requirement was in front of me and ushered him inside. The room was simple with a single sofa in the center. John and I sat on it.

I took a deep breath. Now or never. “John. I reacted the way I did because I was jealous. I was so jealous that you liked a boy that wasn’t me. I thought it was, but the second you said attractive a realized you were talking about Sholto and I just couldn’t handle that. I was selfish and wrong and you are so much more than what I said to you. I was stupid, so stupid, because I thought that I was losing you and- are you laughing?” I stopped to find him clutching his sides and on the brink of tears with laughter. 

“I- I’m sorry. It’s just- oh my god seriously?”

“John Hamish Watson I am trying to spill my heart to you and you are being quite rude right now.”

He took some deep breaths, forcing down his giggles, “Alright. You were jealous of James? Why?”

I sighed in frustration, “Because you liked him!”

“No I didn’t.”

‘What?”

“Sherlock, what did you hear me say that day?”

I winced as I pulled that memory forward, “You said you were bisexual, that you needed my help to see if they liked you, and then you started describing them… I honestly stopped paying attention after you said they were attractive. That was how I knew it wasn’t me but actually Sholto.”

John just blinked, “You really are an idiot sometimes.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are. If you had listened, I also said they were intelligent, unique, exciting, and the biggest tosser I had ever met in my life. I then said that I really should stop referring to then as if you don’t know them because by now you had to of deduced it was-”

“Me.”

“Yes.”

“So when I walked away you assumed that I was…”

“Rejecting me. Yeah.”

I realized how painful that must have been for John. Laying his heart down only for it to get thrown in his face and told that he was too ordinary and not good enough for me. “Oh John that’s… Christ I’m so sorry.” I held back tears. John wouldn’t want me now after what I did. I still wanted John, I knew he only said what he did because he was provoked. But I… I had no reason for what I said.

Suddenly, strong arms pulled me into a strong, compact chest. Tentative fingers found their way into my hair, the strands wrapping around them as if they were pulling the hand closer. If my hair were alive, it no doubt would be.

“It’s okay Sherlock. I know you don't feel that way. Your jealousy had to do with the fact that you thought you were being replaced and I get that. I don’t expect-”

“No John,” I stopped him, too comfortable to pull away. I reached up and poked his forehead, letting my finger rest there, “It’s you. It’s always you. John Watson, you keep me right. I… now that I know how you feel, I’m afraid that I will never let you go.”

I could feel his smile. He gently brought us back until we were lying horizontal on the sofa. I tangled my legs with John’s a buried my face into his neck, breathing deeply. 

“We’re both idiots, aren’t we? All that time and we could have been doing this.”

I just hummed, “John, do shut up. You’re ruining the moment.”

He chuckled and kissed my hair, before putting his finger on my forehead, “It’s you too.”

That was all I needed for now. There wasn’t really much else to say. I closed my eyes and relaxed into my world.

I realized something suddenly, “You thought I was attractive back then?”

“Shut up Sherlock before I hit you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Just one more chapter after this and then this story is finished! As always, criticism and suggestions are always welcome!
> 
> ~Remix~


	5. Ring Finger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a wedding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the last chapter. Thank you everyone who gave this fic a kudos or a bookmark. Special shout out to matomato for your kind words. You made me happy. As always, not beta'd or brit-picked, so all mistakes are my own!
> 
> ~Remix~

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that racked my system. After months of planning and constant stress, the day was finally here. I ran through my mental checklist for what felt like the hundredth time, but I was nothing if not thorough.Today had to be perfect. 

I heard music play and held onto the arm of the woman beside me. It was time. Slowly but surely we made our way down the aisle, my heart picking up. My eyes found John’s as they always did, and the love and reassurance I saw there was enough for me to feel confident again.

The hall that was rented out for the wedding was beautiful. It was fresh and clean, white with red accents decorating the walls. Grand chandeliers with floating candles lit the room and gave it a warm, honeyed glow. It was comforting and vaguely reminded me of Hogwarts. Apparently this was the event of the decade because the rows of people seemed never-ending. There were some I knew and some I had absolutely no idea if they were even on the guest list. I personally thought that it would have been better to have a dress code for the patrons so it was coordinated, but John had given me the “bit not good” look when I had suggested it. Pity. The day would have been so much nicer if it was more uniform.

The months leading to this moment were some of the worst of my life. Between studying for my NEWTS and planning a wedding, there was rarely any time to do much else. I had slept due to pure exhaustion more often than I ever had in my life. I never knew I could fall asleep so easily, but I gave some of the credit to John and his furnace he called a body. One day I had to conduct an experiment on how much body heat he actually dispelled. 

The only thing that kept me from murdering every person on the wedding-planning committee was John. Sometimes he wasn’t enough and I had stormed out multiple times because of someone’s incompetence. Still, we had managed to get together and plan a wedding that lived up to high-standards.

I realized I had made it to the altar and I promptly took my place. Sally had let go of me and took her position on the other side. We weren't entirely close and if I had the option then she wouldn't have been invited at all, but apparently the best man doesn’t choose that kind of stuff. This was Mycroft and Lestrade’s wedding after all and it was to be expected that Lestrade's best friend was someone almost entirely unbearable. 

I found John in the front row as the rest of the wedding party made their way down the aisle. He was smiling at me with bags under his eyes clear. There was only a mild pang of guilt for dragging him into the wedding plans. He honestly had nothing to do with Mycroft or Lestrade until I dragged him to one of the tedious planning meetings where Lestrade instantly adored my Gryffindor. That was how John was given parts to work on little by little until before either of us knew it he was in my partner in planning decorations and dinner. Then, he accompanied Lestrade on his stag night where they both came back completely intoxicated swearing something about “swans” and “fucking scotsmen” under their breaths. Nether of them were too keen on talking about what actually happened that night. No matter what, I was still grateful for his invaluable help and willingness to get along with my brother’s husband-to-be.

The music signifying Lestrade and Mycroft’s approach began. Mycroft had insisted that neither of them were the bride and they had agreed they would walk down the aisle together. So, they entered in opposing doors in the back, walking towards each other. They met in the middle and locked arms, walking down the center aisle. I was surprised neither of them tripped because they didn’t bother to look forward or even at the standing crowd. They just stared at each other like this wasn’t their wedding and it was just another day spent together. After all the effort I put in, the least they could do was appreciate the aesthetics of the hall. 

I had to admit that i had never seen Mycroft look as happy as he did right then. He was actually smiling genuinely and he was completely relaxed for once. If I ever had doubts about Lestrade, all of them were completely invalid when I saw the way he looked at my brother. It didn’t take a genius to deduce it.

I furrowed my brow. Did John look at me that way? Did I look at him that way? I subtly turned to him. He was smiling at my the couple on the aisle, but as soon as they reached the altar he gave me a concerned look. My heart did the fluttery thing that I still did not know how to control. I gave him a small smile which he returned in kind and I knew then. I already knew that I was going to spend the rest of my life by that man’s side but I was now certain that I wanted everyone to know it too.

With this confirmation in mind, I went into my mind palace for the rest of the ceremony, already beginning the vague plan for my own wedding. The sudden cheer startled me out of my planning and I realized I had missed the opportunity to see Mycroft tear up at Lestrade’s vows. I’ll have to pay better attention.

The exit from the hall just led me into the onslaught of photography. With my brother being such a large part of the Ministry of Magic and Lestrade being an Auror, their marriage was considered to be a big deal. My brother’s PA wanted publicity of this so gay marriage was more widely accepted among wizards as it was among muggles. While it was still taboo in muggle society, it was unheard of in the old-fashioned wizard world.

I knew that if I stood up straight and stayed in one spot, John would eventually find me. Sure enough, my little Gryffindor found me to the side of the line for congratulations for my brother and Lestrade. I grabbed his hand in need of comfort. People were not my area and I certainly didn’t like being surrounded by them for very long. 

“You looked a little blank standing up there. You alright?” He asked, smiling up at me.

“Of course I’m alright. Weddings are dull and unnecessary except for the legal arrangements and perks that are provided.”

He laughed with mirth, “Of course you would think something like that.”

“However… I wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to get married eventually.”

“Sherlock, we haven’t even graduated yet. Isn’t it too early to be talking about things like that?”

It’s never too early to think about forever with you John. “Perhaps you're right. Someday.”

He nodded, “Someday.”

Dinner was lovely, obviously. John and I put it together; why would it even be considered anything else? My best man speech was curt and only held mild condescension for my brother. It was enough for us to actually hug in front of everyone and if it wasn’t as awful as I made it out to be, well then that was my little secret. 

The best part was the dancing. John wasn’t particularly good at dancing which I discovered very quickly at the yule ball, but I still wouldn’t prefer anyone else. I knew that this was because of sentiment which in itself was annoying. I couldn’t find myself caring as John pulled me to the dance floor during a particularly slow song.

I took his hand in mind and we began to sway- not a proper ballroom dance at all. His hand seemed so small compared to mine. For as fragile as it looked, I knew what that hand and those fingers were capable of. I’ve seen it clench around a quill where John spun stories of our adventures together. I’ve seen it form a fist to take out an especially irritating person when he was agitated. I’ve seen it caress my skin as if I was beautiful and something to be treasured. I’ve seen it quite literally save lives in the hospital wing. This hand was perfect. Not because it was proportionate or healthy or that it was the most pleasing hand I had ever seen, but because they belonged to John.

Somehow I ended up stroking his ring finger as we danced. One day, I was going to be the one to make it live up to its name. We would be the ones who were too busy looking at each other to appreciate the look of the hall we were in and we would have to exchange words in front of everybody we knew. One day the whole world, muggle and wizard, would know that Watson and Holmes were in it for the long run.

For once, I was excited about my future. Because, in the end, I knew it would just be John and I against the rest of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some news I'd like to share... I'm thinking about a sequel. It would be from John's POV and would go in the reverse order that I used in this fic. If anyone is interested, just let me know!
> 
> ~Remix~

**Author's Note:**

> And there is Pinky! I wanted them to be cute little adorable babies and I hope I succeeded. I'm sorry for John's home situation though, but it had to be done. I'll work to get the next installment up sometime this week. Suggestions and constructed criticisms are always welcome and if you're interested as working as a beta for this story just let me know!  
> ~Remix~


End file.
